


Somebody to Love

by ThayerKerbasy



Series: A Man and His Dog [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brief Mention of Animal Sacrifice, Canon Compliant, Cats, Fluff, Gen, Hellhounds, POV Crowley's Hellhound Juliet, Post-Episode: s11e15 Beyond the Mat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: With Crowley on the run from Lucifer and all of Hell's demons, Juliet is under orders to wait in Hell's kennel.  She's not used to being a dog without a job.
Series: A Man and His Dog [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576391
Comments: 16
Kudos: 18
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Somebody to Love

Juliet was bored. She missed playing with her master. While she was glad he had managed to get away from the mean angel man, he also had to stay away. Juliet didn’t exactly understand, but her master had mentioned something about Lucy Fur knowing too much about hellhounds for her to travel with him safely. All of which meant she was stuck in Hell’s kennel while her master was on the run.

Being bored was one of the worst things ever. She was bored with the kennel, bored with Kennel Master Connall, and bored with the other ‘hounds. There wasn’t even a litter of pups demanding a playmate.

She lay on the stone near a fire and whuffed. The longer she was bored, the more she wanted to track her master to see what he was doing, but he had worked magics that hid him from everyone, even her. She could feel he still lived, but there was no tracking him.

She could go hunting, but somehow even that failed to entice her. Connall had taken to visiting her last at feeding time, so she could just stick her head in his bag of rats and take one without the other ‘hounds getting upset.

With nothing else to do, Juliet lay on her rock and moped until feeding time. The other ‘hounds raced off after their prey — or in Brutus’ case, waited for a rat to be tossed to him so he could snap it out of the air — while Juliet waited quietly. Watching her fellow ‘hounds enjoying themselves was the closest she came to feeling happy while her master was away.

Connall finished feeding the others and approached Juliet, but she didn’t bother to stir until he came to a stop in front of her and opened the bag. Even the thought of eating lacked its usual appeal.

“Come now,” said Connall, holding the sack of rats under Juliet’s nose. “If you’re worried about your master, the best thing you can do is keep up your strength while he’s gone. If he needs your help, he’ll need you at your best.”

That was something she hadn’t thought of. Just like that, eating wasn’t such a hardship anymore. She stuck her head in the bag with no further reluctance.

Normally, she wouldn’t bother to look before choosing a random rat, but Connall had inspired her to choose a particularly plump one. Thus, she caught a brief glimpse of the small white ball of fluff that scrambled up her snout to sit atop her head.

Uncertain what had just occurred, Juliet’s first instinct was to shake her head to be free of the thing, but as so often happened, curiosity won out over self preservation. She wolfed down the first rat she saw, then backed away from the bag carefully so she wouldn’t dislodge her unidentified passenger. Whatever it was, it seemed content to stay in place.

Connall’s eyebrows flew up in search of the hair he didn’t have. “I haven’t seen one of those in ages. Generally, when a cat is sacrificed on a dark altar, it’s claimed by the torturers and set to hunt souls for sport. I suppose this one was thought to be too wee.”

He plucked the creature off of Juliet’s head by the scruff of its neck, so Juliet could get a good look at it. The thing — cat? — was smaller than a newly-spawned hellhound pup. It would easily fit in Connall’s two hands without spilling over. Its long fluffy fur was creamy white over its body, but its face, ears, paws, and tail looked like they had been toasted over a fire to an orange-brown colour. It curled its body up to tuck its tail between its legs and made a small helpless sound.

Juliet was terrible at deciphering human body language, but if the cat was anything like a ‘hound, she understood exactly what it was feeling. Whining an inquiry at Connall, she took a step forward and thrust her snout underneath the cat. Immediately, it grappled for secure footing, holding on with the tiniest claws.

“Well then,” said Connall, the hint of a smile creasing his face as he released the cat, “it had every opportunity to climb up my arm when I reached into the sack, but it chose you. I suppose that means this is your pet kitten now.”

Pet? Was she expected to pet it or would the cat pet her? She had so many questions and no words. She did her best to convey them all with her eyes and a head tilted as much as she dared without losing the creature.

Connall laughed. “Don’t you worry now. I’ll make sure it gets food it can eat, you just look after it. Make sure the wee thing doesn’t get dead again.”

That seemed reasonable. She could definitely handle that. Maybe. It was a very tiny creature though. What if she accidentally sat on it, or stepped on it, or dropped it in the fire?

The very small cat clambered up her head and rubbed its tiny body against Juliet’s ear while making a surprisingly loud rumbling sound. It was one of the nicest sounds she’d ever heard.

“I’ll leave you to get better acquainted,” said Connall, giving Juliet’s side a pat. “I’ll be around if you need something.”

Juliet had no doubt she would need something eventually, but she also had no idea what that might be. She had only ever seen cats in passing in the world above.

If nothing else, there was one thing she was sure of. The cat needed a name. It felt wrong to keep calling it “the cat” when it clearly had enough intelligence to choose a ‘hound as its protector.

In order to choose a name, Juliet decided she needed a better look at the cat. Taking great care not to move too fast, she lowered her head to the ground. When the cat showed no signs of moving any time soon — in fact it rumbled even louder — she tipped her head to one side.

The cat tumbled to the ground in an undignified heap of fluff. “Mrrp?” said the cat.

It wasn’t a sound Juliet was familiar with, but she understood the sentiment. While the cat righted itself, Juliet watched. It seemed to have the awkwardness she’d seen so often in young hellhound pups, except it wasn’t at all incorporeal. She wondered how many other similarities there were.

She didn’t have to wonder long. As she watched the cat regain its bearings, it seemed to notice her watching. Immediately, it dropped its front half low to the ground and started wiggling its back end, making minute adjustments after each wiggle. It was like nothing Juliet had ever seen. She moved her head just a little bit so she could see better, and that’s when the cat attacked.

The tiny ball of fluff launched itself at Juliet’s face, its barely-there claws latching on to the ridge of fur over her eyes. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely wasn’t something she’d anticipated. While she tried to sort out what she’d done to upset the creature, it climbed up to the top of her head and chomped on the edge of her ear with teeth that could never hope to pierce her hide.

As an experiment, Juliet flicked her ear, and the cat attacked again with renewed enthusiasm, all teeth and claws and juvenile ferocity. Its tactics differed from those of the pups, but it was play fighting just the same.

Once she identified what the cat was doing, it was easy to keep it occupied. Sooner than Juliet expected, the cat’s attacks slowed, then finally stopped as it switched from biting to licking. Feeling the creature’s little tongue rasping over her ear was the oddest sensation.

It had just begun stepping its little feet back and forth in the weirdest sort of dance when Connall came back carrying a metal plate with something meaty-smelling on it. “Oh good, you got it calmed down. I’ve butchered one of the rats to give the wee thing something to eat. I don’t imagine it’ll eat much, but it’ll need bite-sized pieces, being that small.”

He set the plate down on the ground in front of Juliet and stepped back. The moment he did, the cat jumped off her head, landing on all four feet and showing very little of the awkwardness she’d seen before. It must have been clumsy before because she’d surprised it.

The cat sniffed the plate of meat and licked a piece — presumably to test it — before eating daintily, one little morsel at a time. It glanced up at Connall between bites, clearly still uncertain of him, but it ate every bit of the meat.

“So,” said Connall as he watched the cat eat, “have you given any thought to a name for it?”

She had, of course, but she hadn’t realized until that moment that she’d settled on one. How could she tell Connall though? Without words, she would have to do things the hard way. As softly as she could, Juliet barked in the way she’d been taught to identify someone who could be trusted.

Connall’s forehead creased and his eyebrows squeezed closer together. “Someone trustworthy. This is, in some way, the name you’ve chosen?” When Juliet whuffed both yes and no, he asked, “Ally? Teammate? Packmate? Friend?”

At the last guess, Juliet again whuffed a yes and no. Communicating with such noseblind creatures was always a little frustrating, but never as much as when they needed exact words. She again gave the trustworthy bark as quietly as possible.

“The name is more than one word, but one of them is Friend,” said Connall, sounding more sure. “Quiet Friend? Gentle Friend?”

Juliet tried very hard to make herself a compact ball, flattening her ears and tucking her feet in close to her body. While like that, she yet again gave the very quiet friend bark.

A smile slowly spread across Connall’s face. “Small Friend.”

Allowing herself to become large again, Juliet barked her confirmation. She must have barked too loudly, however, because the little cat jumped straight up and landed with all of its fur bristling, making it look bigger than it really was. Almost as soon as it happened, Small Friend trotted over to sit beside Juliet’s paw and began licking itself with long exaggerated swipes of its tongue, its fur flattening to its body again.

Connall laughed. “An excellent name.” He reclaimed the empty plate. “I need to go tend the fires now, but you and Small Friend seem to be getting on well. I’ll be back to check on you after my rounds.”

Juliet wanted to protest that she still knew nothing about cats, but she knew how busy Connall was. Besides, he said she only had to keep the creature safe and that he would take care of the rest. She wasn’t doing anything else, so it didn’t matter if that took all her attention.

Already preparing herself to spend the next forever coming to her new friend’s rescue, Juliet peeked over to see what it was doing. Apparently licking itself was a serious task, because it was still at it, though it had moved on to cleaning its paws. It was actually fairly endearing the way it paused mid-lick to gnaw at its toes, then resumed where it had left off.

She wondered if Small Friend would appreciate help. Its tongue was fairly small, and though it was making great progress, licking its whole body was definitely an involved task. Careful not to startle the tiny creature, Juliet leaned forward and licked down Small Friend’s back from head to tail in one long pass.

Small Friend toppled over and made the rumbling noise again. Juliet couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like a contented sound. To test her theory, she licked the little cat again, from neck to feet. If anything, the rumbling noise got louder. Given that Small Friend made no effort to leave, Juliet concluded that the sound was a good one.

Juliet continued to lick Small Friend until she was certain she’d licked the cat all over. When she stopped, Small Friend got unsteadily to its feet, wobbled a few steps closer, and began pressing its tiny paws against Juliet’s side, stepping back and forth from one front paw to the other, its little toes almost grabbing as they pulled away. The cat was unfathomable. Just as Juliet solved one mystery, another unfurled.

After awhile, it must have decided it had done enough stepping, because Small Friend pressed against Juliet’s side and folded its legs under itself, with no pause from one action to the next. It transitioned from stepping to folding in one fluid motion, resulting in a small bundle of vibrating fur just behind Juliet’s foreleg.

It wasn’t something Juliet ever did, but she recognized sleep when she saw it. Her new friend already trusted her enough to sleep in her presence. Juliet was so full of happiness, she felt like she might burst.

When was the last time she’d felt so happy? Certainly not while her master was away. Sadness washed over her as she remembered that her master was being hunted like a damned soul while she was unable to help him.

Try as she might, Juliet was not allowed to wallow in misery. Small Friend’s rumbling noises broke apart Juliet’s sad thoughts, even as the sounds got quieter. They were like magic healing noises.

Her feelings were confusing, but Juliet was forced to accept that maybe it was as it should be. Her master wouldn’t want her to be sad, especially when there was nothing she could do to help. In the meantime, maybe she could teach Small Friend to hunt like a ‘hound. It already seemed to have the right instincts.

The idea of her and Small Friend working together to help her master once his current crisis was over was such a nice thought. Curling around as much as she could, Juliet tucked her head close to her new friend and imagined what it might be like to hunt together. It wasn’t like having her master back, but it was a different kind of good, and for the moment that was good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! This was written for Coldest Hits. The theme this month is [One Hit Wonders](https://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/616843211935219712/june-2020-prompt-one-hit-wonders-posting-dates). I actually intended to write a very different story until I realized the song I was inspired by (which was integral to the story) wasn't actually on the list. Browsing the list of song inspiration led me to a very different (and much better) story. I wasn't directly inspired by Hot, Hot, Hot by Buster Poindexter but that made me think of hellhounds which made me think of this story, so we'll go with it. And of course, my one hit wonder character who only appeared in one episode is Juliet. Hard to believe it was only one episode, isn't it?
> 
> I know I usually ask people not to comment or kudos when I write for Coldest Hits, but this story is an idea I've been sitting on for a very long time, so I'd very much love and appreciate all the comments and kudos. I don't care if I win or lose, I just love this story to bits.
> 
> Side note: my daughter has apparently decided that hellhounds should be called heckhounds, and thus the cats in hell should be called heckmeows (or heckmaus, depending on your cat noise). Small Friend is, of course, a flame point heckmau, because I couldn't resist those adorable toasted marshmallows.


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